


The Bad Thoughts Jar

by risokura



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Graduate School, Hedonism, M/M, Multi, New York City, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risokura/pseuds/risokura
Summary: Every now and then, Edelgard notices Byleth slipping bits of folded red pieces of paper into the jar behind her desk. One day, she gets curious and decides to read them. Edelgard/Byleth AU
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 52
Kudos: 271





	1. Bath Time

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I dragged my feet on this one. I honestly wasn’t even going to post this. I hated how it was turning out so much. Deleted it, looked at it again. Decided to give it another shot.
> 
> Anyway, I couldn’t write the whole thing in a one shot cause I wanted to make it in time for Byleth’s birthday—so—it’s going to be a short little multi-chapter. That I’ll add to over time. ….This is just going to turn into another ongoing project… isn’t it? Someone take my laptop away from me.
> 
> I really need to stop writing graduate school AUs.
> 
> Anyway. This is a prologue of sorts. 
> 
> Happy Birthday, Byleth?

Edelgard is perched in the front of the lecture hall watching the tired and disinterested faces of undergraduate students stare right back at her.

She wishes she could stop taking notes and get out of her chair to smack the ones falling asleep upside the head with her spiral notebook. She frowns as she turns to look at the woman at the helm of the room. Just  how  could they be so _bored_ at time like this when such a  magnificent  woman was right before them?

Professor Byleth Eisner. She’s currently got her suit jacket draped over her shoulders as she waltzes back and forth in front of the board, pointing out the specifics of some theory that’s going to be on their final exam in a couple of weeks. Edelgard eagerly jots down some more notes. She’ll have to sit with Byleth after class to talk things over when she assumes control of lecture for the testing session on Thursday. 

Byleth walks back over to the desk in the center of the room and shuffles some papers that she has lying there. She surveys the room, checks the clock, and then nods to herself.

“…If you have any questions… Edelgard will be standing in for my office hours this week and the next.” Byleth states as she turns a sharp eye on the sleepy room before her.  Really ? These were the brightest minds of tomorrow? She eyes Edelgard and then nods, “Class is dismissed.”

The lecture hall slowly empties out, but a few eager students and stragglers make their way down to Byleth’s podium and start bombarding her with questions about grades and assignments—all of which she answers with ease and candor. Edelgard grabs her book bag and lingers behind as she waits for her professor to finish up. She was  so  brilliant. _Thirty_? And already on the road to  _tenure_? Those things rarely happened anymore in the money pit that was higher education.

Long gone were the days of people actually valuing what academia could produce. Who cares what you published? Peer review was a joke that they all threw around just to make it seem like everyone was so  busy  with their research and work. But, Professor Eisner? Now  _that_ was a woman that held value for the university—at least Edelgard thought so.

As the crowd disperses, Edelgard hangs back for a moment and let’s Byleth get her bearings. She pulls something out of her pocket. Ah, one of those red slips of paper she was always writing on. Byleth quickly jots something down, folds it up, and then looks back at Edelgard who’s waiting for her attention. 

Byleth runs a weary hand through her bangs and finally turns to look at Edelgard, “…Sorry to keep you waiting Edelgard.”

Edelgard brims with happiness at Byleth finally turning to address her, “Professor Eisner. Another  wonderful lecture as always.”

“A shame the students don’t feel the same way.” Byleth chuckles as she gathers her books under her arms and nods toward the exit so that Edelgard can walk out with her, “How many faces did you catch dozing off today?”

Edelgard frowns, “On a topic like  _spectroscopy_ , at that.” She adjusts her book bag over her shoulder.

“Most people are only  interested in trying to get a prism to reflect the light. They care little else beyond that.” Byleth shrugs, “I don’t expect them to drool and salivate over what I’m teaching. But sleeping through class won’t get them any points in changing that  _D_ - to a  _D+_ when it comes to the final exam… I can  be generous at times.” 

“I know you can.” Edelgard nods, “But know that I  won’t  be when it comes to grading.”

Byleth chuckles, “Always so hard on them, aren’t you?”

Edelgard shakes her head, “I believe it’s a waste of money to be here and not take the full advantage of what they’re paying for.” She begins to walk up the stairs to the professor’s offices with Byleth, “…Don’t you think so as well, Professor Eisner?”

Byleth shrugs, “College isn’t for everyone, nor is it there to hold your hand. Eh, I just let them do as they see fit. I notice effort where it’s shown.” She takes her keys out so that she can unlock the door to her office, “…Perhaps you might feel the same one day when you have a little bit more experience under your belt, Edelgard?”

Edelgard thinks about Byleth’s suggestion for a minute, “Oh… my  _teacher,_ I’m not …” She trails off and isn’t sure how to process her thoughts. Would she? She isn’t so sure? She doesn’t quite  know  what she will be like when she becomes a  real  teacher… a  _professor_ —one day. 

Byleth unlocks the door and the two of them wander into the chilly office. The radiator clicks once… twice… and then goes out again. Edelgard shivers slightly as Byleth goes to turn on the space heater next to her desk, “ When  will they fix the heat in this old building?”

Edelgard sets her bag down and sits down on the opposite side of Byleth’s desk as her professor drops a binder and a small planner down before her. Byleth turns around, removes that red paper she had been scribbling on from before and pops it into a mason jar on a shelf behind her desk. She finally sits down and crosses her hands over one another as she leans forward, “So, next week. I’m not going to be able to hang around for office hours, I think I told you that…”

“Yes, you mentioned that in class.” Edelgard takes out a notebook and starts making notes, “Is there anything you want me to focus on in particular?”

Byleth shakes her head, “No. Just take some notes for me and I’ll look at them when I have time. If it’s really pressing, just tell the students to shoot me an e-mail. I’m not asking you to  solve  their problems. Just to be an extension of myself.”

Edelgard nods, “I understand.”

“You already grasp the subject matter well enough, anyway.” Byleth chuckles, “Hell, you could probably teach the class  for me one of these days.”

Edelgard startles, “Surely you must jest.” Does she really  think  so?

Byleth leans back in her chair, “No… not really. You’re  good  Edelgard. One of the _best_ teaching assistants I’ve had. You always show up to lecture when I need you, always the last one out. Saved my ass more than a few times with having supplementary material for class as well.” She grins, “Maybe you’ll be taking  _my_ job one day.”

Edelgard shakes her head, “I wouldn’t  fathom it.”

Byleth clears her throat, “At any rate, I need—“

There’s a knock at the door that interrupts Byleth’s train of thought and she looks at Edelgard for a minute and holds out a hand as if to tell her to wait. She gets out of her chair and goes over to the door to see who it is. Ah, Professor Hanneman here to talk about the next guest lecture coming to campus. Byleth chances a glance at Edelgard who’s still sitting there in her seat.

“…I can wait, Professor Eisner.” She looks at her watch. She had a two-hour break until she had to be at her next class anyway, “Really, it’s  no problem.”

Byleth nods, “I’ll only be a minute.”

Edelgard watches as the door closes and she’s left alone in Byleth’s office. She waits for a minute, listening to Byleth and Hanneman conversing outside before looking around the office. She’s been in here enough times … but she’s never quite  _been_ in here. Edelgard looks about the office, takes in the rows of books the litter the walls—all about physics, theory, math …  those  sorts of things. On another wall, Byleth’s degrees, plaques, awards, important people in  their  world that Edelgard could only hope to meet or impress. Maybe …  one day… Byleth— _Professor_ _Eisner_ ,  Edelgard—would think her  _worthy_ of being able to …

Her attention slowly drifts from the wall and lands on something that’s piqued her interest for some time now. Edelgard eyes the jar full of red slips behind Byleth’s desk chair and glances at the door again. What was she  always  writing down on those slips of hers?

Edelgard gets up out of her seat and chances walking over behind the desk to stand before the shelf. She notices a black velvet book leaning against the jar… just what _was_ that? Byleth and Hanneman are still conversing outside … should she take her chances and peak inside? No, she  shouldn’t  be invading her professor’s privacy like this. But… she was curious, and … _Edelgard_ ,  no.

She stands conflicted as she eyes the jar before her. Throwing caution to the wind, she finds herself leaning forward and grasping it in her hands. She  really  shouldn’t be looking at this. This was her professor after all and Byleth had  _trusted_ her, hadn’t she? All those  coffee  dates, long meetings after class… what about that one time Byleth had asked her to meet her for  drinks  one night to discuss something on the syllabus that would be coming up later in the semester? That had been … there hadn’t been  anything  _special_ about that meeting, had there?

They were  colleagues … and _colleagues_ didn’t  pry  into eachother’s private matters unless they willingly brought it up. But... she couldn’t shake her willingness to dive into some of Byleth’s secrets.

Her professor had always seemed so mysterious, always showing up to school in that sleek black Mercedes Benz—the  _black devil_ —she had heard the other students on campus calling it. And the way in which the woman  presented  herself. The thick kohl eyeliner that she always matched with that weird silver and blue eye shadow of hers. Black lipstick? Or was it purple...  _indigo_? And  blue  hair? On a _professor_? A respected member of esteemed _academia_? She knew that Byleth was technically still  young,  but her flagrant disregard for conventional beauty norms made Edelgard admire her all the more. Maybe .... just  _maybe_ —that admiration was a teeny tiny crush.

And with admiration ... came _desire_. Desire to know  more.  Understand this woman who seemed to be living out every dream that Edelgard had envisioned for herself. Maybe she was writing down her trade secrets? Notes on her next best idea? Grocery lists ... for shopping? Edelgard eyes the jar again and feels her heart hammering with excitement and trepidation.  This is your  _professor,_ Edelgard. What in the world are you  _doing_?  The murmur of voices is still going strong as Edelgard pushes down on the iron tab of the jar and it gives way.

It pops open and Edelgard feels like she’s just discovered a vat of secrets that was somehow supposed to stay hidden from the world. But, Byleth had kept them in such  plain view... maybe she  wanted  someone to discover them? Someone like ... _Edelgard?_

Edelgard dips a hand into the jar as she glances at the door. Jeez, Professor Hanneman sure was taking his sweet time interrupting Byleth like this. Not that Edelgard was complaining, she had her own little venture to get through before she continued her meeting with Byleth. She opens up one of the slips of paper and ... finds herself to be confused.  _Bath time with the emperor—third tab_.

Third tab? Bath time? With _what_ emperor? And where in the world was she even supposed to find...  what  _was_ this? Edelgard frowns—of course she wasn’t meant to understand this. It was  _private_.

Edelgard looks at the slip again and glances about the immediate vicinity. She chances a glance at the black velvet book resting against the jar and then an idea dawns on her. Third ... _tab_? There were a rainbow assortment of tabs sticking out of this book... maybe that’s what this paper was referring to?  She opens up the black velvet book and finds it to be filled with Byleth's messy scrawlings. All of the tabs are numbered—she looks for the third one. Edelgard scans the page for a minute and then her eyes widen in surprise when she begins to understand just exactly she's reading. 

_Why_ was her name written there?

—

_ Bath Time  _

_December 5th. _

_Dream Details: Edelgard likes drawing for some reason. Also, she's a ruler of some country? With the weirdest fucking crown I've ever seen? I gave her a massage and the happy ending treatment. Might have took some creative liberties with this one._

It’s been another long day. 

The bottle of spilled ink has long since dried, permanently staining whatever previously white and pristine papers were being worked on. Byleth sets the bottle upright and moves the worn and true quill pen out of the way. Edelgard’s face hovers just above the desk, her crown of horns pushed askew by the angle of her head. Byleth winces—she _knows_ Edelgard will never say it—but the weight of the crown is  heavy enough metaphorically. She didn’t need it  physically  as well. Byleth will just have to massage the knots out of her neck for the next couple of days, which was fine. 

Edelgard snorts and opens her mouth. The poor thing is  _drooling_ —if only the world could see her now. Byleth takes in the sight of the ruined papers on the desk and wonders what she should do to  try  and fix this so Edelgard won’t freak out too badly in the morning.  _Start with the crown first, Byleth_. 

Byleth places her hands firmly on Edelgard’s head and slowly goes to move the crown from out of place, but Edelgard startles immediately. She whips around in her chair, intent on maiming the person that dare touch the  crown  on _her_ head… and then realizes that it’s just Byleth standing behind her. 

“Whoa,  _whoa_. El. It’s just me…” Byleth assures her as she steps back from the flailing woman in front of her.

When Edelgard finally realizes where she is—her room, that’s her desk, Byleth… _oh_ —she calms down. She lowers her hand, rubs at her eyes and struggles to focus on Byleth standing before, “…Byleth? _What_?”

Byleth gestures toward Edelgard’s desk, “You fell asleep.”

Edelgard looks at the spilled ink and the mess of papers. Oh,  had  she. Sighing, she doesn’t even care to clean up the mess, just looks up at Byleth and rubs her face. She blinks tiredly, gets up from the desk and walks past Byleth and into her sleeping quarters; “I’ll deal with this later.”

Byleth glances at Edelgard’s retreating form and then looks back at the ink, “…Are you sure about that? The papers…” She leans down over the desk to peer at what Edelgard was working on. Looks like … a  drawing  of some kind? Half finished, destroyed presently. 

“Not important.” Edelgard’s voice comes from the sleeping quarters. 

Byleth’s gaze lingers on the mess on the desk before following after Edelgard. She’s currently removing the crown from her head, let’s her hair spill down over her shoulders as she sits it down on the vanity before her. She turns to look at Byleth as she stumbles into the room and takes in the sight of Edelgard—tired lavender eyes, heavy shoulders—she looks _exhausted_. 

“…Do you intend to sleep soon?”

Edelgard nods, “It’s been … a  long  day. And I have to wake up early tomorrow for a meeting with the war council…” Her shoulders heave downward and she begins massaging her neck. 

Byleth walks over to her, threads her fingers underneath Edelgard’s and begins massaging the sore spots for her. Edelgard nearly melts under her touch and Byleth smiles softly to herself. She leans in close, reaching an arm around Edelgard’s waist, “How about a  bath ?” She asks.

Edelgard moans when Byleth’s fingers start massaging the spots just above her ears where her hair had been pulled tight all  damn  day, “…I …”

“It would help you  _relax_.” Byleth tries to encourage her. 

She grips a little suggestively at Edelgard’s waist and spins her around as she tries to move them in the direction of the bed so she can disrobe Edelgard further. Edelgard lets Byleth’s hands guide her down to the bed and watches the other woman pull her feet from her boots. Byleth let’s her hands linger on her feet, massaging her soles gently, before setting them off to the side. Her other garments can wait until they get to the bathing room. 

Edelgard allows herself to be pulled by the hand into the—

—

Edelgard startles momentarily as she hears something  thump  against her professor’s door and she almost screams. She closes the book on her thumb and waits for a minute—Hanneman is laughing at something Byleth said. When she realizes that she won’t be disturbed further, Edelgard cracks the book back open and starts reading again. 

— _skip, skip, taking off her dress, massaging her... **what,** hold up… let’s start _ **here** —

—

—Byleth sinks into the water behind her and Edelgard rests her head on Byleth’s shoulder. The water is  warm  and Byleth’s breasts are pressed up against her back, while her fingers sink into her again. This feels _heavenly._ The warm water sloshes around them as Edelgard sighs in relief. Maybe she _had_ been working a little  too  hard lately. She opens her eyes, looks up at Byleth’s cobalt eyes and sees her staring back down at her. 

“How’s  that  feel?”

 _Heavenly_ —is what Edelgard wants to say, but the words seem to hover on her lips and she can’t get them out. She simply nods her head as if to convey to Byleth how she feels. Byleth smiles, let’s her hands come back up to the crown of Edelgard’s head as the woman in front of her sinks lower into the water. Just how  heavy  was that crown that she so proudly— _willingly_ — wore all the damn time? 

“Any other problem areas?” Byleth asks her as fingers pull gently at the muscle. 

“Mmm…” Edelgard thinks for a minute. She had been working on her shoulders and head for a while… what about  _lower_? She leans forward and motions to her shoulder blades, “I’ve been standing all day… and in those high heeled _boots_. My back has been feeling a little out of whack lately.”

“Say no more.” Byleth murmurs and starts pushing into the aching muscles of Edelgard’s upper back. More moans of appreciation escape from the emperor’s mouth as Byleth slides her fingers down the ridges of muscle and descends along her spine. Everything was so  _tight_. Byleth smirks somewhat mischievously to herself. She wonders what _else_ is tight. 

Edelgard moves a little more as Byleth works her way down her back, "...I never realized how ... _bad_ things were." She murmurs to herself.

" _Better_?" Byleth asks. 

Byleth's hands start massaging her hips and she can only nod again. _Gods_ , yes. Edelgard is nearly melting into her touch as Byleth's hands come back up to the top of her back and begin their ministrations again. What a damn good way to end the _night_. She could almost fall asleep right here and—Edelgard's consciousness snaps to when Byleth's hands come up around her ribcage, grabbing both of her breasts in both of her hands.

Edelgard almost tells her _no_ , this is not the night… the _time_ for that. But the way that Byleth is softly pushing her breasts together, _massaging_ , gently pulling at her nipples has her feeling otherwise. She opens her eyes again, bites her lip as she sees Byleth staring back down at her and quirks an eyebrow in her direction. _Well_ , _shall we_?

Byleth moves in the water from out behind Edelgard and pushes her up against the side of the tub. Water pushes over the edge as Edelgard let’s her head rest on the rim, sighing as Byleth starts kissing and sucking on her neck, leaving a trail of bright pink across her chest as she descends to her breasts again.

“…What do you want me to _do_ , Edelgard?” Byleth asks, looking up at Edelgard who seems to have lost herself already.

Edelgard looks down at her, “ _Suck_ them.”

Byleth _smiles_ —that’s just what she _intended_ to do. She takes one of Edelgard’s breasts into her mouth, runs her tongue along the nipple and pulls gently with a soft _pop_. Her other hand slides over Edelgard’s other breast, running a hand gently along the other nipple so that it comes to a head underneath her palm. Edelgard’s moans slowly grow into gentle pants. Was she _finally_ relaxing?

Byleth moves away from her chest and leans up to kiss her on the lips, pressing her back into the porcelain of the tub. Everything is _slick_ and wet. She wonders what _other_ parts of Edelgard are just as slick as the skin of their breasts pressing together. She uses her knee to spread apart Edelgard’s legs and rubs her thigh a bit forcefully against where she knows Edelgard wants her to go next.

Edelgard breaks the kiss and swallows thick and hard. “ _Please._ ”

“You’re very _needy_ tonight, aren’t you?” Byleth chuckles, not reaching down into the water to touch her just yet.

Edelgard looks at her like she wants to break, “ _Byleth_. Stop teasing me already.”

Byleth chuckles as she reaches an arm down into the water and presses Edelgard up against the rim of the tub again. Water spills over the side. She latches onto the side of Edelgard’s neck, “Oh, _believe_ me. This isn’t teasing in the _least_.” 

Byleth reaches a hand between Edelgard’s legs, thumbs down hard on her clit and rubs it for a minute. Edelgard’s head lulls back again, her chest heaving. Byleth presses up against her, sinks two fingers into her and starts thrusting in and out. She can feel Edelgard tense up around her and spreads her legs wider in response. Byleth can’t tell if the wetness currently enveloping her is _Edelgard_ or the water surrounding them.

“ _Harder_.” Edelgard pants.

“Okay, _okay._ ”

Byleth arches her wrist back, hooks her fingers sharper and pushes in a bit more forcefully like Edelgard had begged. Edelgard pushes against the side of the tub again with the force of Byleth moving against her, her breathing increases and—

—

Edelgard slams the book shut just as she can hear Byleth’s voice growing steadily more disinterested with the conversation on the other side of the door. She hurriedly shoves the book back next to the jar, drops the slip of paper back inside and nearly scrambles to resume her seat on the other side of Byleth’s desk.

The door handle clicks and Byleth is saying her departing words to Hanneman as she enters the room again. She _smiles_ at Edelgard, not even registering the frazzled state that the girl was in. She sits back down in her desk chair and leans forward, “…Sorry that took so long. You know how … _verbose_ Professor Hanneman can be.”

Edelgard can’t _meet_ her eyes as she looks down at the notebook in her lap and opens it up to a random page, “…Y …Yes. Professor Hanneman sure does talk a lot…”

Byleth raises an eyebrow. Edelgard… _stuttering_? Huh? Had something happened while she was outside? She waves a dismissive hand and leans forward on the desk, “Either way… what was I talking about again?”

Edelgard shakes her head, “I … I don’t remember.”

“Yeah, neither do I…” Byleth shrugs, “Either way, I think that’s it for today. I’ll shoot you an email if whatever I was talking about from before comes to mind.”

Edelgard shoves her notebook into her bookbag and is quick to get up from her chair, “Yes, of course.” She nearly trips over her chair as she nearly runs for the door of Byleth’s office.

“…Are you all right, Edelgard?” Byleth asks after her assistant’s retreating form.

“Just fine! See you later, Professor Eisner!” And she let’s herself out of the office without another word.

Byleth can only stare as her office door closes and she’s left alone again. What was _that_? Maybe she had gotten a phone call? A text message from a friend that left her disoriented? She just shrugs and leans back in her desk chair, stretching and then turning her attention to the one thing she wanted to get to after class today— _the journal._

Spinning around in her chair, Byleth grins to herself. That dream from the other night— _muah_ —she would have the perfect fodder to write today’s musings and … _wait_ a minute. As she leans forward to pull the black velvet book from the shelf, her eyes narrow to scrutinize the scene before her. She glances at her office door and then back at the shelf.

…Why was the jar _open_?


	2. It's Foggy Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It’s been a month since I’ve touched this. 
> 
> Honestly I was trying to finish other things before I touched this because it’s going to be such a long… extensive project. Longer than I previously thought once I started working out the actual story for this thing. Slow burn, folks. And a long one at that. 
> 
> At any rate, I’ve been keeping an eye on the response to this thing and wanted to put another chapter out to tide you over in the meanwhile. I'm so excited to be writing something based in NYC again. It’s been too long.

Late night, December, the Bronx.

The sounds of the city on a winter’s night… there aren’t many that’s for sure. Just the feeling of winter’s chill sinking in, bone deep. Edelgard glances down at the dirty wintry slush that covers her boots and kicks some of the slosh from it’s tips. It’s absolutely disgusting tonight. The powdery snowfall from the previous night hangs over mounds of frozen snow that clings to the city’s streets, unwilling to melt just yet. She adjusts her handbag over her shoulder again, steps over a deep puddle of snow and murky water and continues the road back home.

The train rattles overhead and obscures the yells of some idiot yelling down the street. Cars zoom back and forth, honking at one another in irritation— _drive, your fucking car, you asshole._ Edelgard lifts her eyes to a prolonged honking war as a truck almost sideswipes someone trying to make a right during a red light. Illegal, sure. But, in New York City, patience was a virtue.

She pauses at the crosswalk, ignores some guy dressed in Timberlands and a North Face, making kissy faces at her and telling her— _Aye, yo, ma. Whatchu doin’ walkin’ these streets alone at night? You needa man at ya side? Ma, I’m talkin’ to you. Don’tchu hea’ me?—_ and feels her hand tighten on the switch blade in her pocket. Her neighborhood isn’t the _worst_ per se, but it has its characters. She turns an angry, menacing eye on the idiot trying to get her attention to gauge whether she should just tell him to fuck off or ignore him. Slim, scraggly looking, and he’s _shorter_ than she is. Edelgard rolls her eyes, it’s not worth it. She continues across the street as he yells— _fuck you, bitch—_ from out behind her. Really, these encounters are _never_ worth it.

Edelgard stops in at the bodega underneath her apartment building, kneels down to scratch the chin of the small black kitten mewling at her in greeting. She turns to the shop keeper standing behind the counter. “Two packs of the American Spirits, blue pack.” Edelgard mutters as she opens up her wallet and tosses two twenties onto the counter.

The bodega owner grabs the packs of cancer sticks and pushes them across the counter, “Ain’t seen you in awhile, Westchester. You doin’ all right? Them idiots outside leaving you alone? I’ll give’em shit if you need me to.”

Edelgard shakes her head, “No. I’m fine, thank you. I appreciate it nonetheless. I’ve just been a bit busy with school…”

“Yeah, you one of them book types, right? Where you goin’ again?”

“Columbia.”

“Upper West Side, down there with all them Jews, yeah?” The bodega owner chuckles to himself, “Well you be careful walkin’ ‘round here at night. I know you roomin’ with one of us, but they see a white lady prancing around these parts at night and you’re bound to be a target for some shit to pop off one of these days.”

“Once again, I appreciate the concern. But, I’m not ...” Edelgard mumbles. She shakes her head. Never mind. She always got this no matter _where_ she went. Her other side just … didn’t show up as much. Blame genetics.

“Yeah, yeah. You have a good night, you hear?”

Edelgard waves to him as she starts banging one of her packs of cigarettes against her palm. She makes her way out of the bodega, around the corner, and up the stairs of her walkup. She lets herself in through the rickety door and proceeds to ascend the four flights of stairs to her apartment. She can hear the screaming of Spanish, TVs blaring novellas, and the smells of mofongo seeping out of the mildewy walls of the hallway as she nears the door to her apartment.

She pulls the door toward her and sticks her key into the top lock, then the bottom, turns, and pushes it open. _Really._ When was there shitty ass landlord going to fix this stupid door already?

The inside of the apartment is warm and loud, bomba music is flooding out of the stereo in the living room and she can hear the sizzling of something _delicious_ coming out from the kitchen. A voice, singing along to the song—Dorothea.

Edelgard comes around the corner and stands poised in the archway of the kitchen. Dorothea is currently in the kitchen, long hair piled on top of her head, midriff baring top and booty shorts on, twirling Petra around in dizzying circles in the cramped space. Petra seems to be an unwilling partner as Dorothea tells her to— _move your damn hips, Petra—_ and pulls her closer, a hand gripping her tightly.

As Dorothea swings her around again, Petra, who’s now facing the entryway of the kitchen smiles, “Oh, it is Edelgard!”

Edelgard gives a two fingered wave to the couple currently engaged in the throes of maddened salsa dancing and readjusts the bag over her shoulder, “Petra. I see Dorothea has made you her unwilling dance partner again.”

Dorothea finally spins Petra around at the sound of Edelgard’s voice and swivels the two of them over in her direction, “Edie! So good of you to _finally_ return home. What kept you so long? _Pero_ , like… I thought today was supposed to be a light day for you. I thought you were going to miss dinner, cariño.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Dorothea.” Edelgard replies as Dorothea swings Petra and her back in the direction of the stove, “What are you making tonight?”

“Nothing special.” Dorothea replies as she lets go of Petra, but keeps the beat of the music within her hips.

Petra, perhaps dizzy from all of the dancing from before, takes a seat on the step ladder pressed up against the wall below the window. She looks up at Edelgard, “How was your day?”

Edelgard pauses in thought. Yes, how _was_ her day? Class, class, lecture, study, Byleth. _Byleth_. Should she even mention what she _found_ in Professor Eisner’s office today? Nope. No one was going to know about the illicit pornographic material her professor was supposedly writing about the two of them. She swallows down the thoughts and shrugs her shoulders, “The same as usual.”

“Physics.” Dorothea mutters to herself as she grabs an oven mitt and opens the stove. Another warm and delicious smell floods out of the hot oven and she sets the pan down on the stove stop. “Of all the things in the world to study, Edie chooses _physics_.”

“It’s _interesting_.” Edelgard replies, “I’m going to go set my stuff down. Be back in a minute.”

“Sure, sure. Dinner will be done soon.” Dorothea mutters as she fans at the hot pan of food and then turns around to pull Petra back in for another dance.

Edelgard disappears down the hallway and makes a left for her room. She flicks on the light and shivers slightly at just how _cold_ it is in here. She mentally curses herself for leaving the goddamn window open that morning, but just shrugs to herself as she drops her bag to the floor and pulls her pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. She needed a smoke anyway.

The lighter in her hand flickers to life and she leans her elbow on the ledge of the window as she takes her first drag. As she leans out the window, she can hear the sounds of the neighborhood wafting up to greet her. She hears a female voice screaming down the street in Spanish and tries to hone in on it. Even in winter… New York never seemed to shut the _fuck_ up.

From her perch, she can hear the female voice escalating in volume now and starts chuckling to herself at the conversation when a male voice enters the fray. More heated Spanish, a lover’s spat. She takes another pull from the cigarette and exhales grey smoke into the air. Was that a _slap_ she heard? The arguing eventually dies down and Edelgard taps out some ash into the tray at her side. She tunes back into the sounds of the apartment and can hear Dorothea shouting something at Petra again as the sounds of the stereo are still loud and thumping against the shallow walls of the apartment. _Tá encendió, tá encendió, tá encendió, tá encendió…_

She sighs, running a hand through her hair and gripping it tightly to the side of her neck. Her thoughts are drifting back to Byleth’s office ... back to that _book_. What in the world was that mess that she had _read_? And her professor, Professor _Eisner_ , what in the world was she doing writing such things about _her_? About _them_? Was there more on Byleth’s mind than she previously realized? Were those talks over coffee something _more_ than she had failed to realize? It wasn’t proper. She was a _student_ and Byleth was her _professor_. What in the world? A knock at her door breaks her chain of thoughts and she hears Dorothea yelling her name. _Come on, Edie, foods getting cold!_

Edelgard taps out her cigarette again, ashes it in the tray and waves her hand around to get the smoke out of her room. As she shuts the window and walks back over to the door, Dorothea wrinkles her nose as the smell of cigarette smoke hits her and she frowns. _You should **really** stop smoking, Edie. _Yeah, sure.

Maybe when graduate school is over and her stress levels finally drop.

—

Edelgard is on the train the next morning, bright and early, trudging through the icy sidewalk, with the rest of the disgruntled bridge and tunnel crew. She pushes her way through the crowds of people who don’t know the difference between _walk_ on the right, pass on the left, and swipes her Metrocard through the turnstile of the 1 local train. At least her commute is short. The train jerks and clangs its way along the tracks as Edelgard takes a seat by the doors—she’s lucky this morning. She looks at her phone and then up at the map display above her. Only fourteen more stops to go.

She pushes her headphones into her ears and tries to drown out the sounds of the train car opening and someone begging for _something_ again. It’s always the same thing in the city—someone trying to sell candy for their basketball team, pushing bootleg DVDs, the usual crazies screaming about the end being near, the borderline stripper antics of the “ _It’s Showtime!”_ guys, or a homeless person zoned out on drugs begging for food and money. Edelgard doesn’t have the level of compassion that she used to in dealing with it all. Most people in New York don’t—things to do, people to see, no one has time to take a break. What’s _that_?

Edelgard looks down at phone and checks the time. 7:45AM. She had time to stop by Starbucks and get her usual coffee fix before she had to be on campus for her first class and _only_ class that morning. The beauty of graduate school—less classes… but _more_ work—was that really so beautiful after all? She let’s her chin lull forward, balances it on her arms that are currently wrapped around her handbag. The starchy material of her pea coat pokes at her nose.

Finally she arrives at her stop and stands up before the train doors open. People flood out, new travelers walk in. The train takes off again on an endless loop of back and forth, back _and_ forth. She leaves the train station, taking the steps two at a time, and veers off in the direction of Starbucks for a quick coffee stop. As she puts in her order and waits, she can only shake her head at the morning madness inside of the coffee shop. Why doesn’t anyone know what _queuing_ is? And why are they always so oblivious to other people’s personal space? Her name is finally called and she sighs as she looks at the coffee cup in her hand and sees how her name is spelled— _Adelejart_. Adelejart. Of _course_. She takes a sip of the warm liquid as she let’s herself out of the shop and back into the cold air— _why_ did she expect better from Starbucks?

Campus is littered with the usual soulless bodies of academia. Everyone is hollow eyed and running around in a tizzy in the newness of the early morning. What papers are due? What exams have to be studied for? Edelgard somewhat envies the odd slacker or two that she sees littered about with their lofty expressions of apathy. Oh, to be able to live a life without such a care in the world. With resolve, she makes her way through the winding buildings and finds herself in the small classroom designated for her lecture that morning.

As she shrugs her coat off and pulls out a notebook before class starts, her phone begins to vibrate. She sees Byleth’s email address pop up in the mail notification and feels herself _pale_. Oh, shit. Should she open it now … or later … or. Just rip the band-aid off. Get it over with, Edelgard. Her eyes scan the contents of the e-mail and she feels her stomach drop even further. _Fuck_.

_Good morning, Edelgard. Can you meet me in my office after your class this morning or when you’re free later on today? I would like to discuss some things._

_-Byleth_

Short and sweet, nothing else. Edelgard hastily types out a response— _she’ll be by after class_ —and mentally groans as she screws her eyes shut. Byleth knew didn’t she? She knew that Edelgard had poked her head in places that she shouldn’t have and now … what was she even going to _do_? I’m sorry, Professor Eisner? I shouldn’t have done that and invaded your privacy. It was a foolish thing for me to do and I promise, it _won’t_ happen again.

Edelgard doesn’t have much time to conjure up other excuses in her mind, because her professor’s voice is calling for her attention now. She winces again at the thought of meeting with Byleth and opens her notebook to a fresh sheet of paper.

—

Byleth is sitting in her office, trying to balance a pen between her upper lip and nose, when there’s a knock at her door.

She jumps in her seat, the pen clattering to the floor. Byleth turns an eye on the door and then looks over at the digital clock on her desk. Almost ten… that should be one _Edelgard von Hresvelg_ coming to her office. Her eyes descend to the little black velvet book opened on her desk and moves the placeholder onto the page as she shuts it, puts it away. She’ll come back to this _later—_ after she talks about things with Edelgard.

Byleth dusts off her black turtleneck and pushes herself to her feet. When she opens the door, she sees Edelgard standing there and _smiles_ at her. Come in, _come in_ , Edelgard. Why do you look so frazzled? There’s nothing for you to worry about. How was lecture this morning? Did you get a lot of _studying_ done?

All these thoughts, Byleth doesn’t vocalize. She just steps to the side, gestures for Edelgard to enter and then closes the door behind her. Byleth bends down to pick her pen up off the floor and push it back into her pen holder, plopping back into her desk chair, and swiveling around to look at Edelgard.

She notices Edelgard’s nails making worrying indents on the strap of her bag and Byleth steeples her fingers over her chest as she swings back and forth in her desk chair. Just _why_ was she worried? So anxious? _Relax,_ Edelgard. She stops when she decides she’s kept Edelgard in enough suspense.

“Edelgard.” Byleth begins, letting her hand rest on the surface of her desk now.

“Ye… _yes_ , Professor Eisner?” Edelgard asks her, lifting her eyes up to meet her gaze. Is her face red from the chill of the wind outside? Or is she thinking about _other_ things?

Byleth reaches down into her handbag and pulls out her planner, “Do you remember the other day … about that thing that I forgot?” She reaches for a pen, clicks it down and starts writing, “Well, I remember it now.”

Edelgard’s entire expression just _drops_ and Byleth pretends she doesn’t notice at all. _What_? What!? This is what Byleth wanted to talk to her about? It had nothing to do with the jar? Invading her professor’s secrets? Learning things about her that she had no business _knowing_? She wanted to talk about _school_ things? Edelgard feels all the blood rush from her face and her heartbeat increase as the anxiety floods her body. Shouldn’t she be _calming_ down? No. Not really. She’s … feeling a little lightheaded now. Should have had breakfast this morning.

“…What?” Edelgard asks her.

Byleth looks up at her, “…The thing from yesterday. When Hanneman interrupted us and I lost my train of thought.” She rips off a piece of paper and pushes it across the desk to Edelgard, “Here you go. Those are the reference numbers if you can’t find them by title. I needed some books from the library. Can you go pick them up for me and leave them in my mailbox?”

“… _What_?” Edelgard repeats herself.

Byleth tilts her head to the side and lifts her eyebrows in concern, “ _Edelgard_ , are you all right? You’re looking a little …flushed?” She purses her lips, “Aren’t getting sick are you? It _is_ that time of year after all. Heard a nasty flu was going around as of late.”

Edelgard finally breaks out of her shock and quickly shakes her head. She reaches forward to grab the piece of paper off of the edge of Byleth’s desk and looks at it, “I’ll …I’ll get started on this right away.” She looks up at Byleth, “Is that all?”

Byleth shakes her head and reaches down into her handbag again. She pulls out a _thick_ stack of papers and drops them onto her desk with a resounding thud, “Got some grading for you to do, too. Answer sheet is on top. Take whatever liberties you want, try not to be _too_ harsh. I’ll need them by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

Edelgard pulls the stack of papers toward her and winces internally. _Really_. She had to work at the damn movie theater tonight and she wasn’t looking forward to sitting in the damn projection booth with this madness at her side, slogging her way through the work of undergraduates. Nonetheless, she nods her head at Byleth. She _was_ her assistant after all. “Sure thing, Professor Eisner.”

Byleth leans back from her desk, “And I’ll need you here starting tomorrow afternoon to sit in on those office hours. You _remember_ , right?”

Edelgard nods again, almost dropping the stack of papers, as she tries to shove them into her handbag, “Yes, yes. I remember.”

Byleth nods, satisfied that she’s dumped all her grunt work off on Edelgard and gets to her feet, peering down at Edelgard struggling on the other side of her desk, “...Need some help?”

“I got _it_.” Edelgard replies as she gives the papers one final shove. They stick out kind of haphazardly, but that’ll do for now. She looks up at Byleth, face still flushed, “Is… is that all?”

“Sure. For _now_.” Byleth replies, smiling warmly. There’s deception lying in that smile of hers, but Edelgard is too riled up to read her properly. She sits down in her desk chair again and gestures toward her office door, “You’re free to go if you don’t need me for anything.”

Edelgard jumps to her feet and nods, “Yes. _Yes_. I have… I have to go to the library now. For things of my … own, I…” She glances quickly at Byleth and then turns on her heel, nearly _running_ for the door of the office. Edelgard doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge Byleth as she leaves, merely throws open the door and yells out as it closes, “I will see you later, Professor Eisner!”

Byleth watches her office door close and she’s left in solitude again. Edelgard thought she was going to talk about the _jar,_ didn’t she? Byleth chuckles to herself as she swivels back around, pulls the velvet book into her lap and cracks it open to where she left off. She clicks her pen. _Silly_ girl. No… _no_. Byleth was going to wait for that. Wasn’t time for those things… _yet._

She drops the book onto her desk, crosses her arms over her chest and peers at what she’s written for today. Hm…

—

_Size Differences_

_December 6th._

_Dream Details: Edelgard is short. We all know this. And while I’m not that much taller than her… in this one, I was. I think this one will be short, can’t really find too much inspiration in trying to write this._

Sometimes Byleth wonders what it’s like to be so _short_.

She’ll watch with mirth as Edelgard struggles to reach the top shelves of their cabinets, trying to pull groceries off the racks in the grocery store, reaching an article of clothing she wants while shopping. Her fingertips will always barely grace just what she needs, before Byleth is stepping in beside her to grab the object and hand it to her. Sometimes Edelgard will thank her; sometimes she’ll snatch it away, mumbling to herself that she doesn’t need the help. Doesn’t bother Byleth, she’ll continue doing it all the same.

It’s Saturday morning and Edelgard is currently standing in the kitchen, struggling as always to reach something she needs in the cabinets, as she tries to cook them breakfast. Byleth, as always, is watching her from the kitchen table as she pretends to read some book she’s been trying to make her way through for the better portion of the week. Byleth turns her attention toward her book, flips back to a page she barely read. She can hear Edelgard jumping now—just _what_ is she trying to get?

“Need some help?” Byleth asks her, eyes roaming over the words on the page, but none of it is sinking into her brain.

“I don’t need your _help_ , Byleth.” Edelgard’s voice sounds strained as she jumps again and finally pulls an unopened bottle of syrup from the cabinet. She pushes it shut and begins muttering to herself. _Who_ in the world designed this house to have cabinets that were so high?

“Looks like you didn’t.” Byleth snickers under her breath, “Congratulations.”

“Well, maybe if someone hadn’t _broken_ my step stool and finally _replaced_ it, I wouldn’t be struggling like I am right now.” Edelgard snaps as she gives her a pointed look.

Byleth’s snickers die down as she turns another page, “Wonder who did _that_.”

Edelgard turns her attention back to the food and dips two pieces of white bread into the yellow mixture of eggs at her side, “Yes. I _wonder_ who did that, too.” She drops them into the pan and they sizzle as she presses her spatula down on them.

Byleth, now bored with her book, turns it over and leaves it forgotten on the table in favor of bothering Edelgard. She leans against the island and watches Edelgard stands on the tips of her toes again—this time to pull a pan down from above her. She glances over her shoulder at Byleth as if to say, _don’t you dare,_ and hops up again to try and pull it down by the handle. The pan clatters to the floor and Edelgard groans as she bends down to pick it up. Byleth has other things on her mind, however.

As Edelgard stands back up and turns around she’s met with ...Byleth’s chest in her face. Her lavender eyes rise up and she frowns at the taller woman before her. “Yes, do you _need_ something? I’m trying to make us breakfast, here.”

“Mmm…” Byleth looks down at her and grins, “…Thinking of what _I_ want for breakfast.”

Edelgard startles as Byleth _picks_ her up off the floor and pushes her over onto the island to the side of them. Her feet kick at the floor and Byleth grins amorously to herself. What was it like to be so _small?_ Edelgard whines in irritation as Byleth’s hand comes under her shirt and runs one hand over—

—

Byleth pauses, looking down at what she just wrote and frowns. Was she getting to the sex … too soon? There was no build up… _no_ playful banter between the two of them. She presses the pen to the paper again and shrugs. Sometimes… sex was just sex.

…Her hand. _Breast…_ _Edelgard squirming …sucking her neck...the food..._

—

She smells something burning as Edelgard’s panting gets louder and turns to look over her shoulder. Oh, _shit_ , the French toast. Byleth hurriedly leans back, pulling Edelgard off of the island in the process and turns off the eye. She grimaces, looking at the burnt mess in the pan. They’d just have to find something else to eat that morning...

 _Eat_ , huh? An idea comes to Byleth’s mind and—

—

There’s a knock at the door and Byleth frowns to herself in irritation. She closes the velvet book over her thumb and looks at the door in irration. Who in the world was disturbing her _now_? It wasn’t time for her office hours and Edelgard had already left in a frazzled mess a little while ago. She sets the book off to the side in the bookcase where the jar is and gets to her feet to see who’s at her door. Ah, Professor Manuela.

Byleth tries to muster up an ounce of care as she looks at the woman beaming back at her. “Manuela… and just _what_ can I do for you?”

—

Edelgard pulls her scarf tighter around her face as she struggles her way down the street with her handbag on one shoulder and a recently purchased tote bag loaded with papers to be graded on the other. She weaves her way in-between people talking on their phones, not paying attention to where they’re going— _tourists_ —stopping in the middle of the street to take pictures of tall buildings. She doesn't understand. They’re _fucking_ buildings.

She adjusts her handbag again as rounds the corner and turns down 5th street. The old cinema stands as proudly and dilapidated as ever and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Hubert standing outside the old relic, smoking a cigarette and having a staring match with some poor, freezing, Corgi tied to a pole on the street.

Hubert catches sight of Edelgard, a figure of perpetual stress swathed in tones of black and red, and flicks ash from his cigarette. “Ah, my _favorite_ coworker.” He drolls in his usual condescending tone. He eyes the baggage she’s carrying and smirks, “Rough day at school, was it?”

“My _professor_ just loaded me down with some insane amount of grading for the night.” Edelgard groans as she adjusts the bag on her shoulder, “I’m going to be grading these all throughout my shift to get them done in time. You don’t mind if I slack off a bit, do you?”

“Isn’t that what we always _do_ , Edelgard?” Hubert asks. He gestures toward the shivering Corgi who arfs pitifully at him, “You know, I’ve been standing here for the last five minutes thinking of stealing this _dog_. It’s December. _Why_ is this dog out here?”

“Because someone is a fucking idiot and doesn’t want their pet.” Edelgard mutters as she adjusts her bags to pull her phone out of her pocket, “I gotta go clock in. You’ll be in soon?”

Hubert waves her away with a disinterested hand and turns his attention back to the dog, “I have ten minutes left on my break. Bernadetta should be attending to things as they are.”

“Great.” Edelgard pauses at the doors to the theater and turns to look at him, “What’s showing tonight, anyway?”

“ _The Exterminating Angel_. 1960s weirdness. Should be _fun_.” Hubert answers as he finally throws his cigarette away and advances toward the Corgi. The dog yips happily—was someone finally coming to take it away from the cold?

“…Sounds stupid as usual. I’ll see you inside.” Edelgard mutters and shakes her head.

“As you were.” Hubert answers.

Edelgard pauses for a brief moment, watches Hubert begin to untie the leash from around the pole and rolls her eyes. _Come along now, little doggy._ She decides she’s going to head in and start her work, before she becomes an accomplice to one of his _usual_ bouts of crime.


	3. Friends Without Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first couple of chapters of this will be some world building stuff, so if it feels weird and disjointed at times, there you go.

Edelgard stares at the dog panting away on the floor of Linhardt’s loft, lifts her gaze up to Hubert who’s standing there in greeting at the doorway and frowns. Behind her, Dorothea is cooing at the tiny Corgi, who has now moved forward to sniff at Edelgard’s snow caked boots.

She tries to nudge the dog away as she looks up at Hubert with all the ambivalence in the world. “You kept it.” Edelgard says, not accusing, not questioning. Just stating.

A grin unfurls on Hubert’s face as he stands poised at the door, waiting for them to come in. “Why of _course_ , I kept it, Edelgard. Did you see anyone else laying claim to it on that cold wintry afternoon when fate allowed for sheer happenstance to occur?”

Petra steps out from behind Dorothea, comes into the warmth of the loft and bends down to start petting the dog. The corgi rolls over onto her back, exposing her stomach and let’s her tongue hang out of her mouth as if she’s used to this treatment already. She glances up at Hubert as she tucks some loose hair behind her ear and scratches the corgi’s underbelly with her other hand.

“I am not understanding. Is there something _wrong_ with this dog?” Petra asks as she glances up at Edelgard and then back at Hubert as he closes the door behind Dorothea.

Hubert shakes his head, “It would appear as if Edelgard has found some conflict in my manner of acquisition of this poor creature.” He closes his eyes, “Why, I was merely rescuing her from a horrible day in wintry hell when we crossed paths.”

“He stole the dog.” Edelgard grumbles as she shrugs her coat off and walks down the hallway that opens to the main room of Lindhardt’s loft.

The boys are already gathered and seated at the circular table near the window. Bernadetta is also there, poking around at her dice and looking at her character sheet. Her face lights up when she realizes that everyone has _finally_ arrived and that they can get started with the session already.

Caspar grins at the sight of the last remaining three of their party finally making their fashionably late arrival and gestures toward the empty seats across from him, “About time you ladies got here. Was wondering how many times I could ask Ferdinand about how work was going before he told me to shut up.”

Ferdinand takes a swig of his beer, before setting it back down on the table, “Nonsense, I enjoy a little bit of idle banter between friends. Better than Bernadetta sitting over in the corner over there and not saying _anything_ to anyone.”

“Oh, leave Bernie _alone,_ Ferdinand.” Dorothea chides, moving as if she were about to swing her purse at his head to get him to shut up. He jerks back in preparation, but settles down when the hit doesn’t come. She settles down in her chair next to Edelgard.

“What I can’t believe, is that you guys can convince me week after week to still _do_ this.” Linhardt mutters as he stifles a yawn and begins to erect a plastic, folded board in front of him, “We’ve been out of college for how many years now?”

“Five.” Edelgard answers as she pulls out a dice bag and sets in the space between her and Dorothea, “And no matter how much you gripe, Linhardt, you’re always willing to have everyone in your space and take command when needed.”

“I’m _always_ the stupid DM.” Linhardt mutters.

“Not true. I’ve taken us through three or four campaigns.” Caspar interjects.

“Yes and those were a _mess_.” Ferdinand throws his head back in laughter. He gestures toward Hubert and then looks at Bernadetta who seems to shrink under his gaze, “And with Edelgard’s blessing, we’ve added two more to the group.”

“Don’t forget, Petra.” Dorothea leans in to kiss her girlfriend on the cheek and reaches down for her hand underneath the table.

“Yes… in all my travels of the world, I have never had the chance to play such a … strange game.” Petra smiles, leans in to give Dorothea a quick kiss on the lips, “I enjoy it very much.”

“With this group, I suppose it’s hard _not_ to.” Hubert chuckles as he leans down in his chair to pet his new furry companion, “What did we _do_ last session?”

Linhardt massages his face with his hands and pushes his hair back, “You, Edelgard, and Ferdinand almost committed mass _genocide_ of an entire kingdom, while Petra and Dorothea’s character’s _seduced_ the king.” He mutters, and then gestures a hand toward Bernadetta and Caspar, “Bernadetta and Caspar seemed to be the only two with any sense of diplomacy this time around.”

Edelgard shakes her head, “The church was pulling the king’s strings. They had to be stopped. Them and _all_ of their followers.”

“I rather like following Edelgard into war time scenarios.” Hubert chuckles as he leans forward and lights a cigarette, “She’s passionate when she wants to be.”

Ferdinand nods in agreement, “I as _well_.” His gaze lingers on Edelgard for a moment and she acknowledges it, but doesn’t say anything in regards to it.

“Well, I just wanted to have some fun.” Dorothea claps her hands, “And my rolls were off the charts last time.”

“All I had were nat ones…” Bernadetta murmurs from Petra’s side. She leans forward, “May… maybe tonight will be better.”

Linhardt hits the table, “If you guys are _ready_?”

“Pass me a beer, Ferdinand?” Edelgard asks as she eyes the case he brought with him, lingering behind him on a table in the background.

“Of _course_ , Edelgard.” He glances about the table, “Would anyone else like to imbibe as Linhardt takes us through this shitshow for the night?”

Dorothea raises her hand and he pushes one across the table toward her as well, “How kind of you to provide the alcohol for tonight, Ferdie.”

Ferdinand shrugs as gaze lingers on Edelgard again and pushes her beer toward her as well, “It’s the least I can do.”

“I’m sure it is.” Edelgard mutters as she twists the top off and proceeds to tip the cold beverage to her lips.

—

The session follows as it always does. Edelgard’s character is out for bloodshed; Hubert follows her with all the glee and amusement in the world. Ferdinand finds himself swayed by her character’s impassioned monologues about _destroying_ the church's influence in this world, but also tries to remain somewhat neutral.

Bernadetta gets lost in the fray, trying to figure out if she should follow Edelgard—the party’s unspoken leader—or perhaps try her hand at her own interactions with the characters in the game. Caspar kind of sits back and watches things are they are. He’ll fight too, if needed. Dorothea and Petra are more intent with having their characters make out while the rest of the party bickers on. Linhardt sits at the helm of the table and just sighs— _why_ did he allow them to play DND at his house again?

Nonetheless, DND night is always enjoyable. There’s cries across the table of— _Fuck, I nat oned!—_ and— _Why is your AC so low? We’re level 12 now, Dorothea—_ as the group indulge in spending a couple of hours forgetting the stressors of _adult_ life and engage in childish games of the past. Edelgard tips her third beer of the night to her lips and catches Ferdinand looking at her _again_ from across the table as Hubert is arguing with Caspar about the legality of his constitution saving throw. She raises her eyebrows at him as if in silent invitation and a smirk unfurls on that stupid, cocky, face of his. Well. Looks like there might be the enjoyment of _other_ things tonight.

As things wind down, the session rolls to a close, and they make plans for the next time when everyone can meet like this—Ferdinand catches Edelgard’s tipsy gaze and nods off toward the hallway so they can speak in private for a little while. Dorothea catches this little exchange as Edelgard gets out of her seat and follows Ferdinand and shakes her head, sighing. _Pero, Edie, why?_ Edelgard returns to the table and gathers her stuff, as Ferdinand leans in and slaps Linhardt on the shoulder. Job well done tonight or some other nonsense.

Edelgard leans in to Dorothea, drops her voice as if she needs to whisper about whatever she’s off to go do. “…Dorothea, I’ll catch up with you and Petra later. I’m going to hang out with Ferdinand for awhile.”

Dorothea gives her a knowing look and then rolls her eyes as if to say again— _Why are you still_ doing _this to yourself, Edie?—_ and keeps her voice low as well, “Are you okay?” She notices the faint blush on Edelgard’s face, “You’re not drunk, are you?”

Edelgard frowns at her, waves away her best friend’s concern and stands up straight, “Even if I was, Dorothea, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Edie, I _always_ worry about you.” Dorothea replies as she glances at Ferdinand who’s throwing on his coat, “You two still doing that thing, huh?”

“From time to time, yes.” Edelgard answers her, “Why? Is there a _problem_ , Dorothea?”

Dorothea just shakes her head, knowing that whatever she’s trying to dissuade Edelgard from doing, she won’t. She shoots her a look, “You call me if you get into trouble, okay?”

“Dorothea, your concern is appreciated. But, really, I’ll be _fine._ ”

Edelgard’s last words to her, before she turns to Ferdinand, and the two of them bid their friend group _adieu_. They stumble out of Linhardt’s loft and into the cold, December night, giggling like idiots. It’s been a while since the two of them have been like this… not since the summer, during the night of Caspar’s birthday, up at his father’s mansion in Rye. Ferdinand had given her that _same_ look as Edelgard gave him a coquettish twirl of her wine cooler, the two of them, alone, in the hot tub.

She had pulled off her bikini top, pretended like it had just _popped_ off of all things. Ferdinand slaps his hand through the hot water and grabs it, playfully holds it above her as she covers her chest with her arm and pretends to reach for it. _Give it back!_ He gets out of the hot tub, racing across the immaculate greenery of the backyard and Edelgard giggles as she gives chase. It’s not often she loses control like this… but sometimes even _Edelgard_ von Hresvelg has to cut loose.

They tumble to the ground; she fights him, forgetting the bareness of her chest as he casually tosses the aforementioned top toward the pool. Edelgard playfully smacks him, tries to get away as he grabs her arms and stops her from hitting him anymore. Then kisses… the slide of her bikini bottoms to the side, him reaching down through his swim trunks and … Dorothea had made sure to direct her to the nearest drug store in the morning to buy and _take_ that damn Plan B pill, least she be bringing another life into this world.

Ferdinand and Edelgard. Failed relationship in college, friends with benefits in their mid-twenties. It made no sense to her as to why she kept _coming_ back to this man. She didn’t even have _feelings_ for Ferdinand like that … but maybe he relieved things inside of her. Things that a stupid vibrator with bunny ears couldn’t satisfy as she lay under the sheets of her bed at night.

But, as Edelgard’s head hits the pillow and she feels Ferdinand’s weight settle over her, slide between her thighs—she wonders to herself if she made a mistake tonight? The _idea_ of him had always been more tantalizing than actually having sex with him. She seemed to have forgotten this little bit of truth every time she had chosen to lie with him as they were tonight.

His fingers, moving inside of her, feel like stubby, dry, worms and she wants to ask herself— _why_?—Why does she keep coming back to this when it does _absolutely_ nothing for her in terms of release or satiation? She lies to herself, thinks that maybe the _next_ time will be different. But, it never is. Is that why she was always in some form of inebriation every time she let Ferdinand in-between her legs? 

Ferdinand comments on how dry she is and she tells him to kiss her or something… do _something_ to get her wet. He calls himself eating her out. Like a cat licking at its last vestiges of milk, his tongue feels coarse and all types of wrong as he tries to work his way into getting her ready for the plundering that’s about to occur.

He’s down there for maybe five seconds, before he’s back on his knees, hovering before her, erect and ready. He’s about to just drive in without any warning before she stops him. You _idiot_. Put a condom on. But, Edelgard, it doesn’t _feel_ as good with a condom on. Edelgard rolls over to pull open the drawer on his nightstand and rummage around for the plastic wrapper. She doesn’t care, it doesn’t feel good without one either.

As Ferdinand is sweaty and humping her, Edelgard’s eyes roll up to stare at the ceiling of his room. All she can really focus on in the silence of the room is his grunts and sick gasps as _he_ finds release, and she finds herself to be the willing vessel for all that he wishes to pour into the world… or _her_. She thought tonight would be different. But, it _never_ is when she comes over to Ferdinand’s place to do … _this_.

She lowers her gaze to look at Ferdinand, try to make out his features in the darkness of the room. Edelgard is pretty sure his eyes are closed as he’s going to town on her nether regions. Does he even think of _her_ when they do this anymore? It was fun in the beginning, wasn’t it? Running around like they did. Remember that time in the library stacks back in college? We almost got _kicked_ out of school for that stunt…

…But _now…_ now, Ferdinand falls over on top of her, sweaty and spent, and Edelgard is disgusted by the smell of sex that lingers in the air. She hears the condom hit the floor with a wet splat, rolls over for pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, and lights one. Ferdinand turns to look at her, somewhat breathless.

“…Did … did you come?” He asks her, completely oblivious to her lack of fulfillment in any of this.

“Sure.” Edelgard remarks, her face illuminated by her lighter. She takes her first drag and exhales into the air.

“Are you saying that to indulge me, Edelgard?” Ferdinand chuckles. He leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek and she finds herself grimacing at his attempt at _romance_ of all things.

“No. It was good.” She lies as she takes another drag of her cigarette and blows smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

“Wasn’t as good as the time up at Caspar’s place, but, you win some, you lose some.” He settles into his bed and motions for Edelgard to pass him her pack of cigarettes so he can smoke one too, “So, what you been up to?”

“Grad school. The usual.” Edelgard answers as she taps some ash into one of the empty soda cans at her side, “You? Still down at your father’s firm working as a paralegal or whatever?”

“I’ve been considering going to law school to be quite honest.” Ferdinand muses, “I’m quite bored of desk work.”

“Thought that would suit you just fine. Boring paperwork and all that.”

“Absolutely enthralling, Edelgard. I can catch your sarcasm from a mile away.” He exhales smoke and looks in her direction, “Are you staying the night?”

“Might as well. It’s late enough.” Edelgard glances at the clock. And she _really_ doesn’t want to hear Dorothea’s words of concern and _common sense_ when she walks through the doors of their apartment. She lazily taps out her cigarette and looks at him, “Why? Do you have plans of some sort?”

“Meeting some of the boys for breakfast tomorrow. Early morning, that sort of thing. I know how you _girls_ need your beauty sleep, but you should anticipate leaving sooner than later.”

“Right.” Edelgard mutters to herself. She drops her cigarette into the soda can, half smoked and no longer wanting it. Ferdinand waves her over so he can dispose of his as well.

Ferdinand settles into the sheets, turns his back on Edelgard as his head hits his pillow, “Well, good night then.”

She can only stare at him, noticing the slight chill that’s settled into the room—and it isn’t from the cold weather freezing the city outside. Edelgard settles into the sheets herself and turns her gaze down to the floor. A shift of light, coming in from the streetlight beyond the window, illuminates the condom that was so callously thrown to the ground in the culmination of their deed from the night.

She takes a minute to just _stare_ at it, before closing her eyes and willing sleep to claim her.

—

It’s Monday again. Time for lecture.

Edelgard catches the train, grabs her coffee with her name misspelled on the cup—as always—and settles into the lecture hall before Byleth can even arrive. Ready, as always, to support her professor in whatever way she needs. Byleth waltzes into the lecture hall a little while later, yawning of _all_ things, and carrying her own mug of coffee. She greets Edelgard with a smile, simple and calm.

Edelgard notes the dark blue tones on her fingernails—that was _new—_ and then her eyes drift up to look at her makeup for the day. Nothing crazy, just the usual black kohl with a soft pink lip for the day. Simple, yet beautiful all the same. Edelgard pulls her scarf away from her face and starts jabbering away to Byleth about the content for lecture that day, while Byleth nods silently along to her animated chatter. Edelgard, _Edelgard_ , always so prepared. So _eager._

The students, half awake and groggy, start to file into the lecture hall and Byleth asks Edelgard to have a seat as class is about to start. Byleth paces the front of the lecture hall again, drawing complicated diagrams and formulas on the board. The students behind her fall asleep in tandem with her voice droning on about material that will be on their final.

Edelgard is perched at the side of the room, taking notes down about _whatever_ and nodding her head in encouragement at whatever Byleth seems to be talking about. Byleth pauses in her speech about alpha particles and meets Edelgard’s gaze for just a minute. She smiles, and then sets her piece of chalk down as she walks back over to podium.

“…Are there any questions?” She asks, knowing that no one is awake enough on a god damn Monday morning to care about what she’s talking about.

A student with a heavy down coat and tan Timberlands on, raises his hand and Byleth gestures for him to speak, “Yeah. Professor Eisner. What’s … what’s an alpha particle again? Is that, you know, when two particles fight for the particle honey to get it on?”

His mouth slowly quirks into a grin, a few snickers go throughout the lecture hall. Really? She thought this was _Columbia._ But it seemed that some idiots always slipped through the cracks, even in the Ivy Leagues.

Before Byleth can even speak, Edelgard is already cutting in with an answer, “Alpha particles consist of two protons and two neutrons, bound together into a _particle,_ and are generally produced as a result of alpha decay.” She snaps, “…The only _honey_ they’ll be seeing on their final exam is a giant, _red_ , F, that will go along nicely with the failure I see in their future for this course this semester.” Her smile turns venomous, her words, still dripping with poison, “You would do best to study. Perhaps visit me for a more private conversation about _alpha particles_ during Professor Eisner’s office hours this week.”

The snickering continues throughout the lecture hall as the student sinks down into his seat, obviously embarrassed. Byleth doesn’t even wince as Edelgard’s rebuttal, merely clears her throat and crosses her arms over her chest. “…Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah.” He mumbles from the back.

“Good.” Byleth surveys the room again, “Is there _anything_ else?”

In response, the room is silent. Byleth takes that as her cue to resume lecture and start writing on the board again. Edelgard hops back up on her stool, writing down things as Byleth drones on and on about physics or whatever. As _much_ as Edelgard tries to maintain focus on the subject at hand, she’s also finding her brain wanting to do other things— _especially_ being so close to her teacher as she is.

She’s been trying to wash her mind of her previous encounter with Ferdinand from the weekend. Ignoring his text messages about the _next_ time they should hang out and have some fun. Edelgard groans at the thought, she was going to have to see him at DND in two weeks anyway. Whatever, just let him fizzle out and he’d be right back to his normal self as always. They’re trysts from before, forgotten, unimportant in their present day lives.

Edelgard’s mind comes back to the present, her eyes roaming over Byleth’s ensemble for the day. Black, high neck, cashmere sweater. Black fitted pants. Those high heeled black boots that she wore three to four times a week. Black, black, black—the uniform of a classic New Yorker. Edelgard closes her mouth and swallows when Byleth casts a quick glance her way—asking her a question about something or other—and has to quickly gather her thoughts. Almost _caught_ ogling your professor, Edelgard, for _shame._

The hour passes and Byleth concludes lecture. Edelgard hadn’t noticed her with any of those red slips of paper… _those_ slips of paper. She hadn’t thought about the contents of that _jar_ , the _words_ in that journal in Byleth’s office for a little while now. Had she stopped? Did she know? She had to have _known_ Edelgard knew, didn’t she?

Byleth turns to Edelgard as the students filter out of the lecture hall and leave them alone again, “Nice exchange back there. A little … harsh for me personally, but you held your own.” She chuckles.

“He was being _rude_.” Edelgard replies, “This is an establishment for _learning_. As I have said before, I don’t appreciate when the undergraduates waste your time like that.”

A small smile comes to Byleth’s face, “ _My_ time, huh?”

“Yes.” Edelgard nods as she gathers her books in her arms, “Professor Eisner, forgive my words that might be perceived as veneration, but the knowledge you bestow upon this university is priceless. Surely, you must know that as well.”

Byleth actually _laughs_ at her of all things, “Edelgard. I’m not sure that level of flattery is needed when it comes to me. Really, I’m nothing special.”

“Well, I think so.” The words come out of Edelgard’s mouth before she can even control herself and she mentally kicks herself for being so loose lipped. She clears her throat and shakes her head, “What… what I _mean_ to say, is that… you’re a valuable asset here. For our field. I don’t think the _children_ that come to your lectures quite understand that yet.”

“Children…” Byleth chuckles again, completely ignoring Edelgard’s borderline worship of her, “…Anyway. Thanks for the compliment, Edelgard. I’ll carry it with me on my worst days.”

“Really, it’s not …" Edelgard just nods, "Sure, Professor Eisner."

“So... yeah.” Byleth interjects, turning away from her flustered student and crossing her arms over her chest, “Anyway. This week, you remember, right? Sitting in for me for office hours?”

“Of course, I remember.” Edelgard nods her head.

“Yeah…” Byleth rubs the back of her neck, “Just do the usual. Try not to be _too_ hard on them.”

“I can’t promise to excuse their level of slovenly laziness as you do, my teacher, but … I suppose I will try.” Edelgard muses.

“Good.” Byleth begins gathering her notes and other teaching paraphernalia, “I’m going to head back to my office. You can … get going to your next class or take your break if you need to.”

Edelgard nods her head, “Yes. Of course.”

“Shoot me an e-mail if you need me.” Byleth murmurs as she starts off, without even waiting for Edelgard’s response.

—

Edelgard is working concessions that night as she’s got a textbook open on her lap and Bernadetta fiddling with her phone on her left. Hubert is working the projector and Marianne, a newcomer to their terrible motley working crew, selling tickets at the door. The crowd is sparse tonight. Seems like no one was really interested in watching foreign films about alien, ocean shredding, Santa Claus from Australia. Not that Edelgard cared; at least it would be quiet tonight.

Bernadetta looks up from her phone as Edelgard turns another page in her reading and shyly walks up to her. “…Edelgard?” She prods, clutching the phone in her hands.

“Yes, Bernadetta?” Edelgard asks as she flips another page.

“What … what are you reading about?” Bernadetta asks as she sets her phone down on the counter and tries peering over Edelgard’s shoulder, “Is that for your graduate school stuff?”

“As always.” Edelgard replies as she reaches for her coke and takes a sip. She doesn’t spare Bernadetta a glance as her eyes roam over the page again, “Do you need something? I have to get through fifty pages of reading tonight and I intend to do that all while on shift.”

Bernadette worries her bottom lip and then comes around to Edelgard’s other side so that she can make some type of eye contact with the other girl, “Edelgard…”

“ _Yes_ , Bernadetta?” Seriously? What in the world did she _want_?

“…What … what do you know about … _plants_?”

Edelgard finally pulls her attention away from her textbook to look up at Bernadetta and frowns. Really? This girl was asking her about _plants,_ when she had obviously made it clear to her that she had reading to do tonight while they worked. _Work_? Did absolutely nothing was more like it.

“ _Plants_ , Bernadetta?”

“Yeah.” Bernadetta nods her head as she reaches for her phone, “I’ve been reading up on … holistic therapy. It … it helps to address the whole self, you know? And I’ve been thinking … maybe I should get some plants. Something easy to take care of.”

“You know how easy it is to kill a plant?” Edelgard asks her as she looks back her textbook and turns a page again.

“Oh, I’m sure… but …” Bernadetta looks back up at her, “Edelgard. You’re _super_ smart. Practically a genius by comparison. And you’re in grad school, that has to account for something, right?”

Edelgard scoffs, “Being in grad school has nothing to do with your intelligence level, Bernadetta. Honestly, its all about who can bullshit the best and impress your professor.”

“I wouldn’t know… I never finished college.” Bernadetta laments, “I had to drop out in my second year. …Personal things and all that.”

“It happens.” Edelgard pauses in her reading, thoughts harkening back to her own college days, before resuming what she was doing, “You were talking about plants?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Bernadetta holds her phone out to Edelgard for a second and then looks down at it, “I was just thinking about getting a plant. …I think I said that already.”

“Yes. You did.”

“So … what do you know about plants?”

Edelgard _grits_ her teeth at the way this conversation keeps going around in goddamn circles. But she reigns in her anger. Bernadetta is a _sweet_ girl despite all her weirdness and timid nature. She closes the textbook on her thumb and takes a deep breath.

“Plants. Plants need water. Not too much, never too little. Sunlight, of course. Maybe _talk_ to them if you must.”

“Talk to them, huh?” Bernadetta muses and a small smile comes to her face, “Making a plant friend. Plant friends. That sounds nice, doesn’t it? They don’t talk back to you or _yell_ at you when you do something wrong.”

“Yes. Nice. Whatever.”

“I wish people could be like plants…”

“They kind of _are_.” Edelgard replies as she opens her textbook and flips back a page, trying to remember where she had last left off in her reading, “You nurture your relationships with people as you would nurture a plant. Water flows like conversation, your attention is like sunlight. It’s the same thing, but in different respects.”

Bernadetta seems to frown at her analogy, “I suppose you can kill a relationship as easily as you can kill a plant… can’t you?”

Edelgard simply nods, but doesn’t respond.

“What about if we got a plant for the front desk?” Bernadetta muses, “A tiny one. A little succulent or something equally as small. It would add to the … atmosphere of this place, don’t you think?”

Edelgard eyes one of the fraying and cheap plastic plants that litter the entrance to the theater and shrugs her shoulders, “Bernadetta, honestly, if you want to buy plants and litter this entire shithole of a place with them, be my guest. I don’t think the owner is going to care, nor will the people that _work_ here.”

“I should ask that new girl what she thinks about the plant idea.” Bernadetta says, “Hubert probably won’t mind, will he?”

“Does Hubert even show up to _work_ half the time?” Edelgard asks, eyes going skyward at the thought of Hubert in the projector room. He was probably napping as the movie ran for the night.

“You know, I’ve been picking up a lot of his shifts this week.” Bernadetta tilts her head to the side, “Is… is he okay?”

Edelgard pulls out a highlighter and slides it across the shiny page, “Who knows, it’s _Hubert_.”

“He doesn’t talk much about himself, does he?”

“Only what we need to know.” Edelgard mutters. She has her suspicions, but Hubert guards his secrets tighter than her own. “Bernadetta.”

“Yes, Edelgard?”

“Why don’t you go see how the _new_ girl is holding up?” Honestly, she was tired of all these goddamn distractions, “See if she needs some help. She must be overwhelmed by the amount of traffic we’re seeing tonight.”

Bernadetta misses the sweet tone of sarcasm in Edelgard’s voice, “…But… Edelgard…”

“What’s the problem, Bernadetta?”

“She’s … she’s _scary_. Like Hubert _scary._ ” Bernadetta clutches at her phone, “I worked up the courage to go up and say hello to her and she just _stared_ at me like I wasn’t even there.”

Hubert? _Scary?_ Ha. Edelgard tries to hide the smirk in her face and continues highlighting the important parts of the page, “Well, think of this like a new _plant_ , Bernadetta—your first one. You want those seeds you reap to grow, don’t you?”

“Relationships… are like plants.” Bernadetta murmurs to herself, recalling Edelgard’s earlier words.

“Indeed they are.” Edelgard nods her head toward the entrance, “Now go. Maybe bring her some hot chocolate or something. It’s probably cold out there in that stupid concession booth.”

“Ri… right…” Bernadetta nods her head and sets off to making that hot chocolate that Edelgard had suggested. 

Edelgard turns back to her textbook, hearing the clattering and nervous murmuring of Bernadetta behind her. The girl nearly _trips_ over herself as she makes her way for the front door and leaves Edelgard alone, once again, with nothing but her boring reading for the night. With a sigh of relief, Edelgard _finally_ regains her concentration and turns her attention back on her textbook. 

Maybe it would be a quiet night after all.


	4. Mandala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about this piece of work before we go any further. 
> 
> While a sexual/romantic relationship between female Byleth and Edelgard remains as the central focus of this piece of fiction, there will be various expressions of sexuality and gender—of which they may or may not interact with—littered throughout this story as I progress with writing it. It retains an explicit rating for a reason.
> 
> If that’s not your cup of tea and you’re looking for something more stringent, I implore you—please do stop reading from here on out. 
> 
> With that being said, we take a little dive into Edelgard and Dorothea's relationship with this one.

_Speeding Tickets_

_December ... whatever._

_Details: This one isn’t a dream. Haven’t dreamed about her for awhile. Driving on the FDR, going home the other day. Traffic was insane. Cops were everywhere because of some moronic car crash in the central lane. Got to thinking... what would Edelgard be like if she was a police officer... and gave me a speeding ticket?_

Byleth’s gaze flickers to her rear view mirror as she sees the flashes of red and blue behind her. Okay, so she shouldn’t have been going 90mph in a fifty limit zone. But it was getting late and she was just trying to get home before the sun went down. No harm done, right?

The sirens stop as she pulls over onto the shoulder of the highway, the police car rolling to a stop behind her. Byleth rolls down her window, turns off her car, and leans back so she can look in her side mirror to see the door to the police car opening and … a _female_ getting out of all things? Byleth grins to herself and takes a deep breath, as she eyes the officer slamming the door and walking up to the driver side of her vehicle. Time to put on her best polite and ditzy voice and see if she can talk her way out of this one.

The police officer stops at her window and leans down, just as Byleth turns her music off and folds her hands in her lap. The woman pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, puts her hands on her hips and Byleth’s eyes trail to the gun holstered at the side of her belt.

“Good evening.” She begins, “You got your license and registration on ya?”

“Of course, officer.” Byleth hikes her voice up an octave as she leans forward to get her license out of her wallet and pop her glove compartment open for her registration. She hands them over to the officer and waits for her to look them over.

The police officer nods her head but doesn’t hand Byleth’s information back to her just yet, “Are you aware of how fast you were going right now, Ms. Eisner?”

“Oh… _no_ , officer.” Byleth looks at the speedometer currently resting on zero, “I … think I might have been going a little over the limit. Maybe sixty at best.”

“You were doing _ninety_. The limit in this zone is fifty. You know I’m going to have to write you a ticket for that, right?” The police officer isn’t swayed by the lightness of Byleth’s voice or her politeness.

“Oh my god, _was_ I?” Byleth blinks her eyes innocently as she finally looks up to get a _good_ look at this officer. She feels her heart skipping a beat right there— _fuck_ , she was hot. Her eyes rove from her face, taking in those stern lavender eyes, her hair swept over her shoulder in a ponytail, and finally to the nameplate on the officer’s chest— _von Hresvelg_ , “I’m sorry… Officer von Hresvelg.”

“Right, Ms. _Eisner_.” Officer von Hresvelg waves Byleth’s Iicense and registration at her, “I’m going to go run your information and see if you have any other existing warrants or penalties first, and then we’ll get on with writing you that ticket. Please stay in your car and wait for me.”

“Yes, officer.” Byleth watches her turn on her heel and her eyes descend to the view of Officer von Hresvelg’s ass walking away, in her sideview mirror. …And that’s when Byleth begins to panic a little. Eh… _run_ her information, huh? She was sure there was nothing _too_ bad on there… but hadn’t she failed to pay that one ticket from last month? And the one before that, and…

Officer von Hresvelg comes back a few minutes later and leans down to speak with Byleth again, “Ms. Eisner, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of your vehicle for me.”

“Oh… okay.” Byleth unbuckles her seatbelt and waits for a car to rush past, before opening the door and stepping outside with Officer von Hresvelg. It’s then that she notices just how _short_ she is. “Is there something wrong?”

“Got quite the bit of unpaid traffic fines, Ms. Eisner. You _are_ aware of that, aren’t you?” Officer von Hresvelg asks her as she points toward the front of the car. Byleth feels her heart rate increase. _Oh_ , was the hot police officer about to pat her down? “Are you aware you’re in violation of the law?”

“I _am_?” Byleth asks as she continues with the ditzy act. She willingly walks to the front of her car and shakes her head, “I thought … I could have sworn I _paid_ those. Oh, I’m so embarrassed. This isn’t like me, Officer. I promise.”

“You know I could _arrest_ you on top of that other speeding violation that I’m about to slap you with.” Officer von Hresvelg’s gaze seems to be doing … an honest appraisal of Byleth as well. “…Maybe we could talk about _other_ ways for you to avoid that, Ms. Eisner.”

“Like _what?”_ Byleth asks, swinging from side to side and holding her hands together.

“ _I’m_ the one giving the orders here, Ms. Eisner. Now turn around.” Officer von Hresvelg begins, “Hands on the hood of your car.”

Byleth has to keep the lecherous grin off her face as she willingly places her hands on the hood of her car and allows Officer von Hresvelg to pat her down. She seems to notice the police officer getting a little _grabby_ on her ass, a swipe of a hand lingering on the curve of her breasts. And then her arms are pulled behind her back and she hears the resounding _click_ of handcuffs. _Oh_. Fuck…

—

Edelgard startles and jumps in the chair, when the perpetually broken radiator starts clicking beside her. _Fuck_. She hated that stupid thing.

She rubs at her eyes, looks at the clock on Byleth’s desk and then glances at the door to her office. _No_ one had come to see her as of yet and she was glad. Edelgard wasn’t in the mood to entertain the sobbing of undergraduates who wanted her to _have mercy on them_ when it came to assigning their final grade. She wasn’t even the professor, she was the goddamn teaching _assistant_. Who did she think she was? She was just another student in their eyes—a haughty, holier than thou graduate student.

Edelgard takes a sip from her disposable coffee cup and leans back into Byleth’s desk chair. She had been passing the time by dipping her fingers into that jar and reading more smut—written by her oh-so-wonderful professor—and _God_ was it getting to her. She shifts slightly in the seat, pretending not to notice the wet feeling between her legs as she starts another _story_ in that god damn journal.

Today’s mess had been Byleth fantasizing about her as a god damn _police officer_ of all things. Fuck, that. Edelgard hated the police. Especially the pigs that ran the streets in the city. She had seen and heard too many horrific things about the NYPD to ever trust them to get shit right. Either way, this one was … _interesting_ to say the least.

Interruptions forgotten about, she looks down at the book again and flips the page. Now where was she...

—

…Officer von Hresvelg shoves Byleth down onto the hard and firm backseats of the patrol car and climbs over her. The door to the backseat remains open, least the two of them be locked inside and be all kinds of fucked. Byleth fidgets in her handcuffs as the police officer climbs on top of her and leans down to engage her in a searing kiss. She moves again, struggling slightly in the cuffs, and Officer von Hresvelg grasps her by the chin, staring her down.

“I thought you wanted to _avoid_ getting that ticket, Ms. Eisner?”

She _does_. Byleth wasn’t trying to pay any of those damn traffic violations. Fuck that. Byleth nods her head, silently trying to affirm to the officer that she’s going to be _good_ now and do exactly what she wants. One hand comes down to pop the button of Byleth’s jeans, fingers delving inside and—

—

Edelgard finds that she has to stop … reading. There are no distractions this time around, she just feels kind of … _wrong_. As hot as it is to imagine herself fingering Byleth in the backseat of some police car, it’s not really her thing. The whole dominating and submissive thing, that is. She looks back down at the page, sees things like— _moan, squelching, hot—_ scribbled in Byleth’s impeccable cursive and chuckles to herself when at the end of this tale of perversion, she still slapped Byleth with the speeding ticket anyway. With a stretch, Edelgard closes the book and spins around in Byleth’s chair to put it back on the shelf. That was enough for today.

She eyes the clock again, still twenty minutes left of sitting around and doing absolutely nothing. Edelgard reaches for the jar, puts the folded pieces she had pulled out back inside and closes it, returning it to the side of the velvet journal. What else could she do while she bided her time? She had already done all her reading for the week, glanced over her notes she had made during class. Her phone dings and she finds her distraction for the time being.

Dorothea— _What are you doing? Petra and I were thinking of heading down into the city for dinner. Wanna go to hookah? The usual spot?—_ Hookah. Hm. Edelgard spins back and forth in Byleth’s desk chair, before typing her response— _Sure, meet you guys at 6PM—_ and sets her phone down again. It dings a few seconds later with Dorothea’s mutual agreement.

Edelgard sinks back into Byleth’s desk chair and casts her glance toward the door. She tightens the scarf around her face, feeling the chill of the office starting to get to her. Should she just _leave_? A glance at the clock again—no, just stay. Not like she had anything better to do anyway.

Her eyes lower to the sparseness of Byleth’s desk and her minds starts wandering again. She finds it odd, Byleth’s office is littered with nothing but her accomplishments in regards to academia or other awards she’s won… but what of the person she was outside of school? Edelgard glances over her shoulder—well, there was that godforsaken jar of _porn_ her professor had written about the two of them. But, what else? What about her family? Her hobbies? Her interests?

She’s only been out with Byleth _once_. And that night had been a fluke at best. All the coffee shops in the surrounding area had been crowded, so they settled into some weird fusion coffee bar for the night—had _drinks_ of all things. That was okay, wasn’t it? Professors treated graduate students with a little more respect than the undergraduates. They were practically on the same level, weren’t they?

…Mmm, not really. Byleth was only a few years older, but experienced in so many ways that Edelgard could barely fathom. Her lavender eyes cut a glance at the jar that rests behind her. She wonders what _else_ her professor might be experienced in.

There’s a knock on Byleth’s office door and Edelgard jumps again, letting her previous train of thought float away as she plasters her no-nonsense-student persona on her face. She gets to her feet, shuffles over a little nervously and opens the door to see if some stupid undergraduate had finally gotten their shit together and come to _talk_ to her about the class material. But, _no_.

“Professor Hanneman.” Edelgard greets him when she sees the head of the department standing at her door, “Are… are you here looking for Professor Eisner?”

“Oh, Edelgard.” Hanneman adjusts his glasses and is a little surprised when he sees Edelgard popping out from behind the office door, “Yes. I am… is she in? What are you doing here?”

“I’m sitting in for her office hours. She’s … out of the office for the rest of the day.” Edelgard replies, “Do you want me to take a message for her?”

“I suppose I can just send her an e-mail, but…” Hanneman crosses his arms over his chest, “Can you pass along the message about the urgency of confirming the itinerary for the guest lecture? I don’t think I have to tell you how important this is, but Stephen _Wolfram_ is coming to speak for us and it’s imperative that Byleth speaks with him before the end of this week.”

“Of course.” Edelgard nods her head, grateful to finally have _something_ to do, “Is that all?”

“Yes, I suppose…” He tilts his head to the side, “How are things with you, Edelgard? Trust that your first semester hasn’t been too rough?”

Edelgard shakes her head, forcing herself to maintain her smile, “No. The adjustment period has been fine.”

“That’s good… did you go home for the Thanksgiving break? See your family?” He asks.

“Oh, of course. I’m not like the other students, you know? My family is close by and I can go visit them whenever I want.”

Hanneman nods his head in understand, “That’s right. You’re our only student from the city in this cohort… Westchester, right?”

“Cortlandt Manor. Not exactly the city, but close enough. It’s only an hour away.” Edelgard says, “I’m actually going to go see them this weekend.”

“Right, right…” Hanneman uncrosses his arms, “Well then, Edelgard. That’s all from me. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. You must be busy seeing as finals are coming up soon…”

Edelgard chuckles, “Not in the least, Professor Hanneman. It would appear as if the students are _afraid_ to come to office hours.”

“Shame, that.” Hanneman shakes his head, “So much knowledge to be gained from a _private_ one on one with your professor. …Or teaching assistant for that matter.”

“I thank you for your compliment, but, really. Professor Eisner is the true genius here.”

Hanneman chuckles, “You know, Edelgard, she’s _not_ that much older than you are.”

“That may be so… but she’s more knowledgeable than I am, even if I am her TA.” Edelgard muses, “At any rate, I’m going to get back to work. I’ll make sure to relay your message to Professor Eisner.”

“Thanks again, Edelgard.” Hanneman begins to walk away, before an afterthought comes to mind, “And do take care of yourself as well in the coming weeks, you here? I may be up there in age, but I _do_ remember what the pressures of graduate school are like. Look after yourself, you hear me?”

“Once again, I thank you for your concern.” Edelgard nods her head in affirmation, “Have a good day, Professor.”

“You as well, Edelgard.”

—

Edelgard feels her façade drop the minute she makes her way out of the 8th St. 6 train station for Astor Place and settles amongst the hustle and bustle of the Lower East Side at night. She glances up at the Astor Place Cube and snorts to herself. This place has changed a _lot_ in her time… felt weird when they were doing all that construction to fix the streets and widen the pathways in this area. Really, all those rental bikes were so _gaudy._ God, she hated Manhattan bicyclists. 

She meanders her way toward the East Village, pulling her scarf a little tighter around her face and holding her handbag closer to her body. Edelgard passes through St. Marks place and eyes the locals gathering around all the ramen and udon shops, loitering around the comic book stores, and ignores the seedy vendors, smoking cigarettes, and sitting outside their stands on foldable chairs. One of them shouts to her— _Pretty lady, come inside?—_ and she ignores him as she turns the volume up on her headphones. So damn _aggressive_ and gross, the _men_ in this city.

Edelgard navigates the winding streets, rushing across the street to avoid getting hit by a taxi aiming to kill her and angrily brushing past couples who want to _hold_ hands while taking up the entire sidewalk of all things. She will never understand why people don’t know how to _walk_ the damn streets of New York. It wasn’t that hard.

She sighs in relief as she finally arrives at the hookah bar, pushes the door open and welcomes the rush of warm air that comes to greet her. The waitress at the front recognizes her and gestures toward a table in the back where Petra and Dorothea are already hanging over one another and looking over a menu. Edelgard thanks her and walks over to the table, just as Petra looks up to see her sitting down.

“Edelgard.” Petra grins, “It is good of you to join us.”

“I got here as fast as I could.” Edelgard replies as she starts shrugging off her coat, “The trains were all types of stupid tonight. Some dumbass teenagers started a brawl in one of the middle cars and they had to call the cops to break it up. I think someone got stabbed. I don’t know.”

“Same shit, different day.” Dorothea chuckles, “How was your day?”

“Same _shit,_ different day.” Edelgard replies, echoing Dorothea’s words, “I had to stay a little later than usual because I was doing office hours for Professor Eisner. But, no one came. So that was boring.”

“Ah, yes.” Dorothea nods her head in understand, waving over one of the waiters as she points to their hookah selection for the night, as well as their drink and food orders, “Professor _Eisner_. Your hero, yeah?”

“She’s not my _hero_ , Dorothea.” Edelgard takes a minute to put in her own order, “She’s just my professor.”

“Oh, _Edie_.” Dorothea starts laughing and then knocks her arm in Petra’s direction, “Petra, you remember what she was like when she first started the semester? She was _enamored_ with the woman, Edie.”

Petra nods her head in agreement, “She did not stop talking about her, that much is true.”

“Oh, shut _up_ , you two.” Edelgard pushes the menu off to the side and leans forward on the table, “ _Anyway_. What did _you_ two do today?”

“Went down to the studio and got in some practice for the showcase with Claude.” Dorothea replies, “Been looking through auditions for some new shows popping up here and there. It’s _dry_ out there this holiday season.”

Petra shrugs as she leans into Dorothea, “Translation work, as the usual.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Petra. Working in three languages must be _exhausting.”_ Edelgard reclines back in her chair, ears perking up to the Arabic music playing overhead in the speakers, “I could barely get through French in high school.”

“Yeah. And you _barely_ speak Spanish.” Dorothea reminds her.

“I _understand_ it just fine.” Edelgard frowns, “How many times are we going to have this conversation, Dorothea?”

“I should stop speaking in English to you all the time.” Dorothea giggles, “Right, Petra? Make her learn some Spanish?”

“Ah, perhaps not?” Petra tilts her head to the side, “Sometimes… even I do not know what is being spoken about in English.”

“Yes, but that’s fine. You still get the gist of it and can _speak_ it.” Dorothea turns her gaze on Edelgard again, “Edie can barely come up with a coherent sentence besides, her name, yes, or no.”

Edelgard ignores Dorothea’s teasing and turns her attention on the hookah that’s arriving at their table. The waiter shifts the coals around before depositing three plastic covers for the pipe on the table. Edelgard takes the first hit, languishes in the bubbling sound of the water at the base of the pipe and lets the smoke billow out of her mouth. She starts feeling lightheaded immediately and smiles.

“Say, you two…” Edelgard begins, as she uncaps her plastic piece and passes the pipe to Petra, “I’ve been thinking about things…”

“Like what?” Dorothea asks. Her forehead furrows before Edelgard even answers her, “ _Please_ tell me it’s not about Ferdinad’s stupid ass. Edie, I swear, if you give it up to that stupid boy one more _time_.”

“No, that was a stupid mistake.” Edelgard grimaces at the thought of that night with Ferdinand and coming back home to Dorothea’s cross expression as she walked through the door that morning. “Fuck, Ferdinand.”

“Please let that be the _last_ time.” Dorothea takes the pipe from Petra as she blows smoke in the opposite direction, “You two broke up for a reason.”

Petra nods her head, “While I was not here for that relationship, I know that it pains Dorothea whenever you … are with him, Edelgard.”

“You _guys_ …” Edelgard closes her eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling to stop herself from getting angry over Dorothea and Petra’s concern.

Dorothea shakes her head, “I know we still see his stupid ass from time to time but I _don’t_ appreciate him using you like he does. Edelgard, you’re too _good_ for that and you know it.”

Edelgard opens her eyes, but keeps her view lowered to the table. _Was_ she really too good for that? She doesn’t know if she necessarily agrees with Dorothea’s assessment of the situation. “He’s just a quick fuck, an easy lay.” She shrugs her shoulders and accepts the pipe back from Dorothea, “I use him as much as he uses me. It goes both ways.”

“That’s why I never fucked with men.” Dorothea mutters under her breath, “They’re all idiots.”

“Even Claude?” Edelgard asks her, blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

“We’re not _together_ , Edie. He’s my dance partner.” Dorothea says, as she pulls Petra in for added emphasis and kisses her on the cheek, “I don’t _hate_ men. I just think they’re idiots.”

“Yeah.” Petra nods her head and tilts Dorothea in for a quick kiss on the lips, “I may have to agree with that.”

“ _Anyway_. Like I was saying before you two distracted me. I’ve been thinking of something lately…” Edelgard continues with her previous train of thought, “What do you think about teachers … who have fantasies about their students?”

“ _Huh_?” It’s like a curve ball hit Dorothea straight in the face, “What in the world are you talking about?”

Edelgard turns over her shoulder as the waiter deposits their drinks and food on the table. Seriously, why did they always _come_ to this place? The service was always so damn slow. She picks up her gin and tonic and takes a sip, “I saw something in the news today about some teacher out in Brooklyn who was fucking around with his high school student. Just got me thinking…”

“What?” Dorothea asks, “About what? What could that news story _possibly_ have made you think about.”

“I don’t know. I mean… it’s disgusting when you’re talking about minors. But, what about when the two of you are both adults?” Edelgard muses, “Does that make it okay then?”

“Edie, is one of your professors hitting on you or something?” Dorothea asks, hitting the nail completely on the head, “Is that what this is about?”

Petra takes a sip of her white wine, “I think… Edelgard is just trying to make the conversation about the day, Dorothea. Please, relax, _habibti.”_ She gestures toward Edelgard, “I would like to take a stabbing at this question, if that is okay?”

“Sure, Petra. Go ahead.”

“It is a power struggle, is it not?” Petra asks as she accepts the pipe from Edelgard, “Would it be right to be in a relationship with someone like that?”

“What do you mean, Petra?”

“Your teacher… is _above_ you in status, are they not? Does that not complicate things if you are their student? Regardless if you two are both adults and can … con… consent to the relationship?” Petra pulls on the pipe and blows smoke up into the air, “I would imagine that it would be a messying of things should you proceed with a relationship.”

Dorothea makes a gagging motion, “I think it’s gross. That’s your teacher. You shouldn’t be doing those things with them—even _if_ you two are adults. And since you asked the question… where do _you_ stand, Edie?”

“ _Me_?” Edelgard picks up one of her French fries and chomps down on half of it. She reaches over to rearrange some of the coals, brushes off the ash from the foil, “I don’t know. I guess. If no one _knew_ , per se, what’s the problem?”

“Oh, _Edie_.” Dorothea sighs as she slouches down into the chair and accepts the pipe from Petra, “ _No_. No, that’s not the answer you should have. That’s why you’re always getting yourself into these types of situations with people—like Ferdinand.”

“Dorothea. Please, enough about him already.”

Petra strokes her chin and then shrugs, “It is only hypothetical, yes? Then I see no point in us fighting over who is right in this matter. I believe this is a discussion.”

“Sorry, I just… Edie knows how protective I am of her.”

“Always have been.”

“Yeah… “ Dorothea twirls a piece of her hair, “I just want the best for you, you know that.”

“I do. And I _appreciate_ that Dorothea.” Edelgard picks up her drink again, “But sometimes… what you think is best for people isn’t what they need.”

“I have the agreeing with that as well.” Petra nods her head and then turns to Dorothea, “We know you love Edelgard, _habibti._ And I’m sure she knows it, too. It’s good to care about your friends… but sometimes you need to let them follow their own path and figure out things for yourself… _ah_ , themselves.”

“Wiser words, never spoken, Petra.” Edelgard nods her head, “Thank you.”

“So, wait. There _isn’t_ a professor hitting on you?” Dorothea asks, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation.

“No. It was _just_ a question. That’s all Dorothea…” Edelgard replies as she lowers her gaze down to her food. She grips her drink in hand and lets it hover before her lips, “That’s _all_.”

—

It’s Friday night and Edelgard _hates_ her life right now. In the background, Dorothea pauses in her instruction as she stops to look at Edelgard. In the mirror, Edelgard gazes at herself, bent over, hands on her knees and just looks ... awkward.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Edie.” Dorothea comes up behind her, places her hands on Edelgard’s hips and physically tries to force her hips down and her ass outward, “Pop. Your. _Ass_. Not your whole damn body. I know half of your bloodline’s been colonized, but fuck.”

“I don’t _dance,_ Dorothea.” Edelgard groans as she stumbles backwards into Dorothea’s hands, “Not like this at least.”

“Yeah, yeah. You and that classical bullshit.” Dorothea forces her down, “You ain’t ever like ... been getting tapped from the back and had some guy pulling your hair or something? You know? That type of back arching.”

“Dorothea. An ounce of decorum, _please.”_ Edelgard almost pulls her way out of her roommates grasp, “And what in the world do _you_ know about having sex with men?”

“That it probably ain’t _shit_.” Dorothea chuckles, “That’s why I have my darling Petra at my side. Fuck dicks, I just want chicks.”

“Yes, as stated previously, you already _have_ one.”

“Yeah, and it’s going to stay that way.” Dorothea let’s go of her hold on Edelgard as the girl in her grasp tries to smack at her, “Wanna try again?”

“No. This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I even let you talk me into this.” Edelgard grumbles as she fixes her crop top and readjusts her joggers, “When I said _work out_ , I meant going to a gym. Not standing around in your dance studio with you trying to get me to twerk in front of a mirror.”

Dorothea turns to the side, makes a dramatic slapping of her knees, swings her hair around and proceeds to arch her back, “It’s really not that hard. We just need to get you to loosen up those hips of yours. Besides, it’s actually a really good workout for your glutes... whole backside really.”

Edelgard watches Dorothea ... drop to the floor and massages her face, “...This is embarrassing.”

“Only because you’re about as sexual as cold vanilla ice cream on a cold winter’s day.” Dorothea pauses as she gets to her feet again, “Edelgard, I’m gonna stop calling you Edie... I think your new nickname is going to be _Vanilla_.”

“...Dorothea. Please.”

“Okay, Vanilla.”

Before Edelgard can embarrass herself anymore and Dorothea can shake her ass in the mirror, the door to the studio opens. In walks Claude, headphones in his ear and a water bottle in his hand, his apathy preceding him as always. He grins at the two women, charming as always, as he drops his bag by the door and gives a mocking bow to Dorothea and settles a hand on his hip.

“ _Dorothea_.” Claude greets them, “I hope you didn’t wait long.”

Dorothea looks at the clock, “Claude, you _idiot_ , you’re two hours late. You’re lucky Edie was there to fill in the time. I’ve been teaching her how to arch her ass correctly for the better part of a half an hour.”

“ _Oh ho_ , have you?” Claude throws his head back in laughter, “How’s that going?”

“You don’t want to know.” Edelgard mutters. She looks at Dorothea, “So I was just a distraction until Claude arrived?”

“Not _really_. Maybe a little.” Dorothea chuckles as she walks over to the other side of the room and starts kicking off her sneakers. She picks up a pair of black high heels, sits down in one of the chairs pushed up against the wall to slip them on. She glances up at Claude who’s reaching for another black bag he’s dropped to the floor—the guitar, “You know the showcase is in three weeks, right? What have you been _doing_ , Claude?”

“ _Christ_ , Dorothea, you know I’m in the third year of my residency and shit’s a little intense right now. Winter, flu and all that going around.” Claude pulls his guitar from the bag and walks over to where she’s currently sitting and also takes a seat, “And you’re going to be fine. We’ve been working on this routine for how many months now?”

“She always worries about this stuff.” Edelgard mutters as she walks over to where the two of them are sitting and rests her arms on the ballet bars behind her, “Ever since that run of _In The Heights_ finished up, she’s been restless.”

“I haven’t even found my _dress_ yet.” Dorothea mutters as she gets to her feet and stomps her foot a couple of times. She reaches over to the bar Edelgard is currently leaning against and pulls a black wrap from the top and fashions it around her waist.

“Black?” Edelgard offers, “Like … always?”

“Why not switch things up this time around?” Claude begins strumming the guitar a little to check the tuning, “We wore black for the last competition… but you’re solo this time. Why not dazzle the crowd with _red_?”

“Maybe mauve.” Dorothea muses. She shakes her head and turns to look over her shoulder at Claude as she starts winding her long hair into a bun on the top of her head, “I’ll think about that later. Edie, do you wanna go shopping with me sometime?”

“Why not just take Petra?” Edelgard asks, “You two can make out in the changing room while you try on all your dresses. Maybe strip each other and have sex while you’re at it.”

Claude snorts, “You know what, they _just_ might, Edelgard.”

“Very funny, _Vanilla_.” Dorothea counters, “Now, if you two are done with your chitchat. _Claude_ , it’s time we get to practicing.”

“Right, right…” Claude nods his head.

“Edie, think you can keep a beat for me?” Dorothea asks as she looks at Edelgard’s reflection in the mirror in front of them.

“ _Sure_ , Dorothea.”

Edelgard hovers her hands together as Claude begins strumming on his guitar and Dorothea begins the rhythmic stomping of flamenco and twirls off into the front of the room. Edelgard has seen this routine probably a hundred times by now— _really, maybe only ten—_ and follows her clapping along with Dorothea’s stomps and turns, the flourishing of her arms at her side, twisting and twirling through the air.

There is something strangely hypnotic about her movements. The way her skirt always seems to be flowing around her in every direction, the sharpness of her movements and precision of her switches. Dorothea shouts— _Louder, Edie! This is flamenco! Not fucking ballet!—_ and Edelgard sighs as she hits her palms together a _little_ harder and Claude chuckles at her side.

Dorothea pauses in front of the mirror, gazing at herself, as she holds her arms locked above her head and Claude strums the guitar for a little while longer. When he stops, she lowers her arms, comes back to a neutral position and then turns to look at the two behind her. She tilts her head to the side, shakes it and then walks over to the two of them with her hands on her hips.

“I still feel like it’s missing something.” Dorothea muses.

“The _dress_?” Claude offers, knowing he’s not being any help.

“I’m going to punch you, Claude, I _swear_.” Dorothea kicks at his feet with one of her heels as he pulls back and laughs.

“Different … music, perhaps? Something to accompany Claude's playing?” Edelgard offers, trying to be helpful, “Where’s the guy in the background with his dramatic singing? The drums?”

“I wanted something simpler this time around.” Dorothea replies, “I’m going solo with this one. I wanted the lone guitar to stand for something… one woman, alone. A solidarity piece.”

“How… _artistic.”_ Edelgard mutters.

Claude let’s his arms hover over his guitar, strums a few of the strings in an idle manner, “I honestly think you look perfect already, Dorothea. What more can we do at this point?”

“…Maybe I’m just nitpicking it when there’s nothing to change.” She crosses her arms over chest and turns away from them to stare at herself in the mirror again, “…One more time, Claude? From the top?”

“Sure.” Claude reassumes position and adjusts himself on his seat.

Edelgard raises her hands in the air before Dorothea can even say anything, “ _Yes_ , I’ll keep your rhythm. _Less_ ballet this time.”

“Thank _you_ , Edie.” Dorothea says as she raises her arms once more, grips her skirt and launches into another flourish of spins and twirls, to the sounds of Claude’s guitar and Edelgard’s slightly off beat clapping.


End file.
